


honey i'm good

by NoncanonGirlfriend (orphan_account)



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Sex, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NoncanonGirlfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i gotta be like oh baby, no baby, you got me all wrong baby, my baby's already got all my love</p>
            </blockquote>





	honey i'm good

**Author's Note:**

> god. fuck. i have no shame left. also it's not actually dubcon mostly alcazar questioning whatever the hell he's doing ANYWAYS we're all bastards

Alcazar's glad he isn't drinking much of the whiskey. It's unusually strong (of course, Haddock was boasting about how much he paid for it) and burns in this throat. So far he's spent this evening simply sitting on the old weathered couch, conversing with Tintin who sips mineral water routinely. Rain batters the windows of the ship's cabin, blocking out the moonlight.

Haddock's loud laugh shakes Alcazar out of his thoughts. He glances over in time to see the captain grasping his sides in laughter, one hand on Skut's shoulder, whiskey sloshing out over the rim of his glass. Skut is shaking, wordlessly cackling at Haddock's story, his hands clamped tight on a near-empty bottle: he's definitely the most drunk of the four men, his face flushed a rough red. 

A large wave rocks the boat, sending whiskey sliding across the table and the dim overhead lights swinging. Tintin quickly glances out the large windows to check that the water hasn't lapped onto the ship's deck. Again Haddock erupts and Alcazar smiles slightly. It's been a long day of fishing with few results and he's about ready to retire for the night. 

Another bottle comes rolling across the table and Skut wheezes, his hand running up his face and through his hair, causing the eye patch to slide up over his scarred flesh beneath it. Alcazar figures the light is dim enough and Skut's intoxicated enough that he won't notice if the accessory completely falls to the floor. 

Even through all the laughing and drinking, Alcazar manages to drift off, laying on the couch with arms splayed over the sides. 

~~~

He wakes up to the sound of glass shattering. It takes a split second to register before he's sitting up straight, hand on bottle, trying to find the source of the sound.

Skut is sitting across from him on the other couch, cursing under his breath in Estonian, shards of the broken bottle gleaming on the table. Alcazar sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Skut?"

"Yes?" Skut slurs, grinning at Alcazar.

"How much did you drink?" Alcazar carefully leans over, picking up shards of glass and depositing them in a nearby bucket that steadily collects water dripping in from the leaky window. 

Skut laughs again, "Too much, ah?"

Alcazar reclines back in his seat and grumbles something incoherent. Skut shows no sign of sobering, and Alcazar as well is starting to feel the effects of even the small amount he drank. 

"I admire you, General." His accent is made thicker by inebriation. Skut tries standing to sit next to him and immediately falls back down, collapsing a few feet away from Alcazar, only supported by the arm of the couch and the wall. 

Alcazar eyes him cautiously. "Thank you, Skut."

Skut giggles, suddenly toppling onto him, and Alcazar freezes. Skut's head is on Alcazar's chest and his arms loosely slung somewhere back around Alcazar's neck, legs practically useless. "I-it's Piotr," he mumbles. 

"Skut-" Alcazar feels his heart beating faster, increased when Skut jerks up and straddles Alcazar's hips. 

"Shh!" 

Skut sloppily kisses him.

Alcazar doesn't react for a second. He shouldn't let him, he's married, he has a wife who's always been faithful and- Skut bites down on Alcazar's bottom lip, slurring praise, bumping his hips against his. Alcazar gives in and kisses back.

"Been long time," Skut mutters, breathless, pressing wet kisses and bites to Alcazar's neck, "since this," and internally Alcazar agrees, he starts a sentence that falters when Skut pushes up using his knees that stabilize next to Alcazar's and sits back down again. Alcazar inhales sharply, Skut doesn't seem to remember what to do and instead messily grinds on him, one hand pressed to the back of Alcazar's head and the other to his chest. Alcazar half-heartedly shoves him, forming an excuse that he can't that barely escapes his lips before Skut shushes him again. Skut's breath is warm against Alcazar's ear, he's obviously struggling to continue what he's doing as the alcohol sets into his limbs. 

The discomfort at Alcazar's crotch from the tightness of his pants and Skut's pressure grows with his arousal, against his will he moans quietly which encourages Skut to continue tearing fresh marks into his skin. Alcazar wants this and even if he didn't Skut's too drunk to stop- it's wrong for sure but it's been far too long for the both of them.

Alcazar fumbles at his side for the last bottle and takes a swig, snapping himself out of inaction and returning the favor of thrusting up against Skut who groans pleasurably. 

It only takes a minute before Alcazar notices that Skut is getting louder along with the rain that slaps against their craft, similar to how Skut wraps his legs around Alcazar, his shirt open and hair tousled. Alcazar groans and swipes for the whiskey again, pouring it down his throat, most of it spilling out the rim and onto him. 

Skut unexpectedly gasps, standing with his left leg to get more friction between them, jutting his hips out a final time before Alcazar can tell he's climaxing from his needy moans and quick movements, and Alcazar knows Skut's not exactly one to swear, certainly not like Haddock but a quiet 'fuck' clearly escapes him: and then Skut quickly loses footing and buckles down on top of him. 

Alcazar stops and waits. Skut seems to be passed out, unable to function. He slowly sits up straight, resting his elbows on his knees and contemplating what just happened.

~~~

The next morning Haddock grumbles about the whiskey on his couch over breakfast.


End file.
